Waning Interest
by LaDyFiCtIoN
Summary: Brooklyn is interested in Mystel and Mystel is not one to shy away from the attention. He too finds it interesting, to have someone interested in him. So when Brooklyn becomes bored, he understands why he has been betrayed. [BrookMyst, HiroBrook, Yaoi]


This is dedicated to _Kelirehenna_, or rather, LadyBrookMyst, as she likes to be called. Happy Birthday, darling! You got to choose your pairing, and at least you picked something I've worked with before. Sadly, I had to twist it a bit and add in some HiroBrook; I hope you don't mind.

**Disclaimer:** Nothing.

**-Waning Interest- **

As the door opened, very slowly, Mystel looked up with wide, curious eyes. Brooklyn would never forget that visage, meeting his own with such a bright smile on his face. A twist of playful innocence swirled with such exotic grace and poised maturity – Mystel immediately interested him. He probably got away with many things too, with such a youthful countenance that masked his age very well. But neither of them was in the position to let their curiosities run unchecked.

They only knew one thing about the other and that was the basics; they were teammates. Mystel was ready, willing and possessed the talent to learn, or so the statistics report read. Brooklyn was naturally skilled and experienced, ready to teach this child everything he knew, just as the boss told him too.

They were the first two recruits, oblivious to their futures.

That very future, not so distant, was important, but only the present could bring them there.

The path ahead was simple, or so they thought and at the very least, it would be interesting.

''I'm Brooklyn, your trainer.'' The elder introduced himself, a warm smile splayed across his mouth.

''Nice to meet you, Brooklyn, I'm Mystel.'' The younger replied, holding his hand out to his teammate.

They shook hands and immediately, as their eyes locked, they both became interested in this new friendship.

Or at least, that was what they wanted to call it.

Their team only became complete when a young singer, a devoted older brother, and a famous athlete joined the ranks, but they developed their skills on their own. Mystel, he needed an instructor, someone to focus his wandering mind and eager, energetic spirit. Brooklyn, a far too similar case, needed a pupil to hold his interest and perhaps even challenge him.

Too fast did they become enthralled with their so-called partnership.

''That was great, Mystel. Your launch was perfect. Your accuracy is steadily increasing. But you have no stamina. You waist your speed for nothing and move around carelessly.''

The encouragements were constantly laced with criticism. The tone was soft, but hard and straightforward. Mystel absorbed the positive and negative, listened carefully for Brooklyn's advice and incorporated the lessons into his game. There was no other way to achieve success. The road was straight; there were no detours or shortcuts. The first months were hard, testing, and brusquely strict.

A student only learned if the teacher was educated.

Mystel was taught the hard way. Brooklyn destroyed his blade, with a smug and remorseless simper.

''You're not trying hard enough. Do not bore me, Mystel because then you're just a waste of my time.''

The blonde grit his teeth and endured his training with resilience. He sometimes bit his lip hard and swallowed curses, threatening to roll off his tongue. His glares were held in check, barely, and his fists balled tightly at his sides. He breathed in deeply, calmed his nerves and tried yet again, to please his coach.

''You're not good enough.''

There was only one way to change that.

The insults were harsh and biting, at first, but even as the cruel, derogatory words echoed loudly in his mind, the praises tasted as sweet as victory itself.

He thrived on the flattery and indulged in the calm tone of Brooklyn's good humor.

''You're very interesting, Mystel. I like that.''

They knew nothing of the other when they started in the dish. Personal information was worthless. Mystel was Brooklyn's student and a blader, nothing else. Not until he surpassed everyone's expectations, did he truly become someone. Once his trainer smiled at him, and praised him as talented – he was important.

The rough patches and the endless hours of training, they were all worth it. With his position on the team secured, and Brooklyn's approval, Mystel finally let his reservations fade away. Brooklyn, although he did not know anything about Mystel, was still interested and very curious to discover more, now that the opportunity was before him.

That alone, the feeling of worth was overwhelming.

Mystel was unique; his hair was mussed, always, with a long braid cascading down his back. The color was a messy mix of blonde and brown, but it suited him. Brooklyn told him he was pretty, once, beautiful even, and Mystel blushed. The compliments, the kind words, the smiles, Mystel captivated Brooklyn.

The teacher, no longer his teacher, but his friend, was genuinely fascinated. He asked once, why Mystel suddenly wore a mask, but the blonde was coy and simply shrugged the question off with a mysterious grin. Brooklyn was far too curious. Everything about Mystel interested him.

Mystel was not about to shy away from the attention, either. He easily became infatuated with Brooklyn as well. Their friendship, as they still called it, was fuelled by an insatiable obsession with the other. It was only a matter of time before things progressed. Brooklyn solicited answers and Mystel was more than happy to satiate his requests.

''I've always wondered what you taste like…'' Brooklyn murmured, as he leaned in closer and breathed out his curiosity into Mystel's ear.

There was a kiss, swirling with inquisitiveness and eager tongues, forbidden moans and promises of more than they could ever offer one another.

They both knew, but refused to acknowledge that there was only so much that one could know about the other, before they knew _everything_.

There were no more secrets.

They shared everything, openly.

Mystel never wanted or expected Brooklyn to lose interest, but he understood, right away, the reasons why. His heart ached at first; his emotions betrayed him and clouded his judgment. There was a bitter stir of anger and resentment, welling dangerously in his ribcage.

Kinomiya, Hiro became interested in the team, or rather, in Brooklyn.

It should have been obvious, to the eyes blurred by sentiments, that he was becoming boring to Brooklyn.

It was interesting to have someone interested in you, Mystel knew that first hand and so when Brooklyn became the center of someone else's interest, it naturally became interesting for him to move on.

**-EndE-**


End file.
